We have now held the Mormon Lit Blitz contest for five years. And we’re pleased to report that Mormon literature is alive and well. Over the past five years we’ve published 60 pieces in the Mormon Lit Blitz contests and 17 pieces in our other contests. Each year, we’ve had the opportunity to share new poems, new essays, and new stories that engage with the fundamental question of what it means to be a Mormon.
It was a tight race this year, with the top four places in question throughout the entire week of voting. And now, readers’ four favorite pieces for the 2016 Mormon Lit Blitz: Continue reading 2016 Mormon Lit Blitz Winner + Updates
We have enjoyed all twelve finalists. But we only have one Grand Prize. Help us decide which piece wins this year’s Lit Blitz by ranking your four favorite pieces in the form below. Continue reading 2016 Mormon Lit Blitz Voting
It almost feels like fate,
and yet I know it isn’t.
Just a chain of choices
long as life itself—
this I say, this not;
this I do, this not;
this I study, ponder,
believe— Continue reading “From the East” by Merrijane Rice
It was Vernon Hamblin found it. He saw it scampering along the side of the highway out on the stretch of the Arizona Strip just north of Molly’s Nipple. Vernon said his first thought was to offer it food. Luckily, he had half a stale Big Hunk bar in his denim jacket. The creature gulped it down and gave him a nod. Vernon nodded at the truck. It climbed right in and sat down.
You might be wondering why I’m telling this story at this difficult, strange time in our nation’s history, but please bear with me for just a moment, brothers and sisters. Continue reading “Last Tuesday” by William Morris
Cold dog tags
press against my chest
under the weight
of kevlar body armor. Their
imprint into my skin.
Name. Social Security Number.
Latter-Day Saint. Continue reading “Rumors of Wars” by Zachary Lunn
It started years ago, probably when the boys were young. I’m convinced that in the fresh-faced newlywed days we sat up in the front, chins tilted up, drinking it all in. But, it wasn’t long before the back was just a better place to make a quick escape when someone screamed, or the infant needed a diaper change, or the two-year-old just kept saying “Amen” loudly over and over half-way through the meeting in hopes that the speaker would wrap it up and we could go home.
And soon it stuck. Like Thoreau before Walden Pond. “How deep the ruts of tradition and conformity” when it comes to sacrament meeting seating, right? Continue reading “The Back Row” by Kelli Swofford Nielsen